


The Essay

by skuldchan



Category: HIStory3 - 圈套 | HIStory3: Trapped
Genre: Comedy, Gratuitous Jack Appreciation, Humor, Jack's pecs need to take some responsibility, M/M, Post-Canon, Zhao Zi tells it like it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-09 08:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20850524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuldchan/pseuds/skuldchan
Summary: Zhao Zi shows up late to work for a week straight, so Meng Shao Fei assigns him to write an earnest apology letter and self-reflection essay as punishment. Unfortunately, the interim Captain of Unit Three gets exactly what he asks for.





	The Essay

The motorcycle is still rolling to a stop when Zhao Zi pulls off his helmet and swings his legs over the side to dismount.

“Thanks for the ride!”

He takes a step toward the station, but Jack catches him by the wrist and yanks him back to the side of the bike. Jack frowns. “Hey, where’s my goodbye kiss?”

Never one to deny his boyfriend when asked, Zhao Zi claps both his hands around Jack’s open-faced helmet and pulls him forward. Zhao Zi’s tongue darts out, teasing his boyfriend with a lick of heat. They kiss longer than he intended to, mainly because Jack is not to be outdone when it comes to tongue, and Zhao Zi can’t help but to respond by escalating. With a final, flirtatious tug at his lover’s lower lip, Zhao Zi parts slowly from his boyfriend.

“Have a good day,” he grins, and without further fuss, turns and waves goodbye.

“You too!” Jack’s voice is fainter than usual, seemingly still a little dazed from Zhao Zi’s last playful nibble.

Zhao Zi saunters toward the police station, the sliding glass doors of the entrance parting before him. He makes his way leisurely through the lobby, and deeper into the building’s interior, heading toward the briefing room.

The morning briefing is already underway, and Zhao Zi is late by a good twenty minutes or so. But his agenda item, the Tiffany jewelry store robbery, is the last one on the list, so it’s not like he’s missing anything important.

His first inkling that something is wrong is when all heads in the room swerve uncannily in his direction in unison. He isn’t even within arm’s reach of the door yet, and everyone just stares at him through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls like fish in an aquarium, or worse, like zombies in a horror film.

Zhao Zi freezes and slowly turns to glance behind him, half expecting to find some decomposing monster or screaming ghoul lurking behind him.

But there’s nothing there.

Zhao Zi’s shoulders sag with relief. “What?” he asks, turning back to his colleagues and spreading his arms in question.

The only person who hasn’t turned to face him is Meng Shao Fei, who was appointed interim Captain of the unit just two weeks ago. Leading the meeting, Ah-Fei had his back to Zhao Zi, and is the last to spin around.

Zhao Zi blanches at the dark expression on his friend’s face. Shao Fei’s lips are pressed together in a thin line, and he is glaring so hard that Zhao Zi is surprised laser beams aren’t shooting out of his eyes.

Ah-Fei doesn’t so much as open the door as almost crash through it. “Zhao Li An!” he barks in front of the entire squadron. Everyone in the open office also stills—chairs swiveling away from desks, heads lifting from paperwork—to peer at them. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Zhao Zi stands rooted to the spot. He casts about for a clock, his eyes hastily wandering the walls of the station before he belatedly realizes there isn’t one. There hasn’t ever been one. That’s weird, he thinks. Somebody ought to put a clock up, that’s just basic. His hand delves into his pocket for his phone, and he sneaks a quick peek at the screen. “Eight twenty-three?”

“And what day of the week is it?”

Zhao Zi thinks it’s Friday, but then second guesses himself before he can reply. Why is this a relevant line of questioning? Is this a trick question? Is it actually Friday? What if he accidentally slept through an entire day and night? He tallies the days of the week by sifting through his memories.

On Monday, the alarm woke him up, and Jack gave him a handjob in the shower. They had century egg congee for breakfast. On Tuesday, he woke up hard and Jack gave him a blowjob, and then they had toast and hash browns. On Wednesday, Jack was the one who woke up hard, so he gave Jack the blowjob and then Jack returned the favor. Together, they fixed up a quick meal of scallion pancakes and soy milk. On Thursday, Jack made slow, gentle love to him first thing in the morning. For breakfast, Jack fed him an experimental concoction, a breakfast bao—sausage, egg, tomatoes, onions, cilantro and hot sauce in a bun. He spent the first hour at work reviewing it on his food blog, instead of working the Tiffany case. That was yesterday, so today must be Friday.

“It’s Friday,” Zhao Zi says, now mostly certain about it. “Why does this matter though?”

Shao Fei’s lips compress into an even thinner line.

“You’ve been late by more than twenty minutes every single day this week,” Shao Fei says, the words clipped with anger as he forces them through clenched teeth.

Zhao Zi’s eyes roll skyward as he sifts through his memories a second time, and comes to the realization that Ah-Fei is correct. He has been late every single day. He would have been even later if Jack hadn’t been giving him rides to work, but Zhao Zi doesn’t think revealing that fact is going to help right at this moment.

“Sorry?” he tries, changing tack.

Interim Captain Meng Shao Fei blinks.

“Double sorry?” Zhao Zi makes another attempt. “...Triple sorry?”

Shao Fei sputters incredulously.

“I don’t know what you want from me besides an apology,” sighs Zhao Zi after Shao Fei utters more incoherent noises. He is at a loss for what his long-time friend, and now his superior officer, wants.

“I want you not to be late again!” Shao Fei snaps.

“Oh.”

“Do you have any idea how rude and disrespectful it is for you to show up late for an entire week, while the rest of your co-workers, including the rookies fresh out of the Academy, are clearly capable of making it in on time?”

Zhao Zi turns his gaze downward, and stares at the floor, because it is easier to look at feet than to look at Ah-Fei, who is red-faced and livid. It reminds him a little bit of how Captain Shi used to berate them all, but as fond as that memory is, Zhao Zi still dreads being the object of the scolding.

“You were fine before. What the hell is going on with this week? What the hell have you been doing?”

_Jack._

Zhao Zi flushes, debating whether to say it out loud.

Shao Fei crosses his arms across his chest expectantly. “Well?”

“Jack,” Zhao Zi says quietly, lowering his voice and leaning closer to Ah-Fei, hoping that no one else in the office will hear his answer.

“Jack?” A look of confusion passes over Shao Fei's face. “Jack what? What’s this got to do with him?”

Zhao Zi feels his cheeks flare even hotter. His friend is one of the best detectives he’s ever known, but damn, is Ah-Fei dumb sometimes.

Just then Yu Qi comes his rescue. She swings open the door to the briefing room, and clears her throat loudly.

“Captain, we’re running a few minutes behind the agenda. We should probably get started again if we want to get through all the open cases from yesterday.”

Shao Fei frowns, leveling his best stern gaze at Zhao Zi.

Ah-Fei still has a long way to go with his Captain Shi impression, Zhao Zi thinks.

“Right, I want a five-thousand-word apology and self-reflection essay from you by Monday.”

Zhao Zi gapes, horrified. “Five thousand words?! That’s like...the longest thing I’ve ever written!”

“One thousand words for each morning you’ve been tardy,” Shao Fei replies crisply. “And I want it written by hand!”

“B-but I’ll have to stay forever tonight to get that done!”

“Given how late you’ve been, that’s probably exactly what you deserve!” Then Shao Fei turns on his heel, and strides back to continue the meeting.

Well and truly deflated, Zhao Zi scurries in after, and takes a seat at the back of the room, shrinking beneath the pitying stares of his colleagues and waiting his turn to present.

* * *

Zhao Zi slumps at the kitchen table, letting his forehead thud against the polished wood. The pen he picked up just minutes before slips out of his limp grip and rolls onto the smooth surface. The sound of the clatter alerts their cat, Li'l Chubs, who has been napping on Jack's chair. She leaps onto the table and swipes the pen, sending it to the floor where she proceeds to continue batting at it. Zhao Zi makes no attempt to retrieve his writing implement, and neither does Jack, who watches with amusement as the pen goes skittering in spirals toward the door.

The dishes clink as Jack washes last of them in the sink, and wipes his hand on a dishrag. He hangs up his apron on the wall, and approaches Zhao Zi.

“What’s this?” Jack cocks his head curiously to the side. “Homework?”

From his vantage point at table level, Zhao Zi does his best to look forlornly up at his boyfriend. He has a pad of paper and one page of apology written so far. He is nowhere close to done, and this is after having stayed late at work. On a Friday night.

“I have to write a five-thousand-word apology letter.”

“Five thousand? That’s like _Three Kingdoms_ length!”

Jack is exaggerating hyperbolically, but in all honesty, it feels exactly to Zhao Zi like he is supposed to be writing the next great Chinese novel.

“I know, right?” Zhao Zi grumbles. “It’s so unfair.”

“What did you do?”

“Shao Fei’s punishing me ‘cause I’ve been late.”

Jack purses his lips and considers this. “I see.”

Zhao Zi pauses, expecting his boyfriend to have more to say. “This all your fault, you know,” he huffs, sitting back up and jabbing an accusatory finger in Jack’s direction.

His boyfriend chuckles. “Is it though?” Jack asks innocently, grabbing Zhao Zi’s finger and leaning in close so he can speak in soft tones in Zhao Zi’s ear. “You’re the one who’s so horny in the mornings you won’t get up until you’ve gotten off.”

Zhao Zi blushes. “That’s because you’re so freakishly hot. You need to take some responsibility for that.”

“You mean this?” Jack frees Zhao Zi and begins to unbutton his shirt, giving Zhao Zi a sample of his toned physique.

“Yes,” Zhao Zi replies, regarding his boyfriend's self-satisfied smile, which grows wider when he neglects to stop Jack from continuing to undress. More and more of Jack’s skin is revealed as his hands move downward, until finally the shirt is unbuttoned, revealing an expanse of smooth skin and contoured muscle.

How he would love to wipe that grin off Jack’s face. So Zhao Zi does just that, turning his head and stretching upward. Their lips meet, and after a few moments of gentle exploring, Zhao Zi’s arms lock around Jack’s neck to pull him down. No more writing gets done for the rest of the night.

* * *

_Zhao Li An_  
_ April 20_  
_ Apology Letter and Self-Reflection Essay_

_I am writing this letter to give my apologies to my friend and Captain, Meng Shao Fei, for being more than twenty minutes late to the morning briefing every day of the week beginning April 13th. Even though I have many reasons for this and I feel they are justified, I recognize that tardiness is unbecoming of an officer of the law, a protector of the public, a defender of justice, and a catcher of bad guys._

_Chronic lateness from a senior officer also sets a poor example for the rookies that are fresh out of Academy and for the rest of our colleagues too. I have missed important information on ongoing cases and held up the agenda once, so I’m very sorry about the inconvenience I have caused._

_I also get why you have elected to punish me by making me write a five-thousand-word apology and self-reflection letter. I know that we’ve only been assigned temporary leadership the past few months since Old Captain Shi’s indictment, and as a result the Unit has devolved into a bit of chaos, like a chicken with its head cut off. Not that I think the unit is actually a dying chicken spurting blood and shedding feathers everywhere, but you get the analogy. Chaos, lack of direction, and stuff like that._

_I know how hard you’ve worked to convince our superiors to hand over command of the unit to you, and how difficult it must have been to face their scrutiny for the personal choices you’ve made within the past year, like your decision to date Tang Yi only for him to end up shooting you instead of trying to murder Ah-Zhi. Technically, you jumped in front of his gun, so I guess it’s not actually Tang Yi’s fault that he shot you, but even discounting that, it looks kind of bad on paper, doesn’t it? Like, if you hadn’t taken that bullet he would have totally killed Ah-Zhi. He’d beaten Ah-Zhi to a pulp already, which is at least assault and battery of a police officer. That prosecutor really nailed Tang Yi on that one in court. That was pretty rough. In the end, all this means that you must have worked so much harder to convince the higher-ups to give you this opportunity! And I shouldn’t ruin it for you._

_All I can say is that everybody on the team feels you’re doing a good job so far with what you’ve been given. It’s hard to follow up an internal corruption scandal. The pressure you must be under! Everybody’s going to be scrutinizing your next performance review. But don’t worry, we all feel that you’ve brought direction and leadership back to Unit Three. It’s like they’ve finally stuck the head back on the chicken whose head was cut off before._

_Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I totally get that you have to punish me for being late several times in a row, otherwise it totally undermines the authority that our commanders have given you. If you let me go unpunished, nobody in the squad will ever respect you, not even the rookies, and that also means losing the trial Captainship you’ve been given. So don’t worry, I’ll do my best to make sure everybody keeps respecting you. We really don’t want to go back to our headless chicken-ness. So, I’ve got your back, Ah-Fei, I mean, Captain! It’d be pretty neat to have you as a permanent Captain, the way that chickens probably want to keep their heads too._

_(Gosh, this metaphor is making me really hungry. Jack does a mean chicken broth, and he always lets me have the best part, the chicken neck! He’s the best boyfriend. He cooks for me practically every day. Grandma was right about my fortune!)_

_Sorry, what I meant to say before I got distracted with that tangent is that I will endeavor not to be late in the future. I will try really really hard. Grandma taught me not to make promises I can’t keep though, so I can’t actually promise that I won’t be late again. But I can promise to try._

_Since this is also supposed to be a self-reflection essay, this means that I also have a duty to explain the cause of my tardiness this past week, and come up with proposals to mitigate said cause._

_So, there is one main category the cause falls into, but many sub-causes as part of that category. In order to be rigorous and complete, as they taught us in that risk management module we had to do in Academy, I will attempt to outline everything to the best of my understanding._

_The main category resulting in my lateness this past week has been Jack. (He suggested that I lie for this part of the essay and make up some other excuse, but I told him that you can tell when I’m lying, probably even on paper, so I’ve decided to tell the truth.) He actually gave me rides to work every day last week. Otherwise I’d have been even later. But in short, have you ever seen Jack’s body? Have you ever seen him without his shirt on?_

_Do you remember from way back at Academy, when we used to go to the gym in the mornings, and there was always this one other guy there too? Doing chest presses and bench presses and bicep curls? The two of us used to make fun of him, like secretly nicknaming him Arnold (after Arnold Schwarzenegger), because he was probably insecure, which explained why he was bulking up and stuff. But we both actually knew, deep down, that we were the insecure ones?_

_Anyway, I hope you remember Arnold._

_Jack is more ripped than Arnold._

_I am not kidding._

_(In hindsight, I think my attraction to men might have actually started with Arnold, only I hadn’t realized it at the time.)_

_I’m going to say this again, just in case you missed it._

_JACK IS MORE RIPPED THAN ARNOLD._

_You probably haven’t actually seen Jack without his shirt on, or Jack with a wet t-shirt (now that I think about it, if you ask Zuo Hong Ye or Gu Dao Yi, they have seen Jack wet, and can probably verify), but let me do the best I can to describe it for you._

_Jack’s pectorals: firm and substantial beneath my hands. There is muscle there, and a lot of it. There are actual contours. I don’t know if you stare at my boyfriend the way that I stare at him, but have you ever noticed how you can just see the hint of the shape of his pecs beneath his button-downs and his jackets? If you’ve never looked, you’re missing out. (But hands off, they’re mine. Looking only, okay?)_

_Jack’s shoulders: Strong. I never realized I was a shoulders kind of guy until Jack’s shoulders happened to me. Heavens above, they have definition. Just normally. They’re there, and they’re visible, and have I ever mentioned that Jack never sleeps with a shirt on? They are a presence I have to contend with both day and night. And particularly in the mornings. Do you see where I am going with this?_

_Jack’s biceps: Thick. I never noticed how much bicep Jack had until he stripped the first time we...you know. And again, there is shape there. You can see them move even when he’s not flexing. When he’s just reaching over to brush my bangs in bed, or when he’s putting the kettle on in the kitchen. I’ve worn one of his shirts once, and it is loose everywhere on me. Especially the arms. His arm muscles are subtle, cause you don’t see them under the leather jackets or thick coats he wears, but I swear he might even be able to lift me with just his arms. Actually, he can, he’s done it._

_Jack’s butt—_

Meng Shao Fei chokes on his coffee, which has gone entirely the wrong way down. He gasps and sputters, bent double, his eyes watering from his forceful expectorations as he slams his mug back down on his desk. It feels like he is hacking up a lung, he is coughing so hard.

His beverage has spilled over the top of his cup and splashed onto the pages of Zhao Zi’s hand-penned apology. There are several pages left that he hasn’t finished going through, but Shao Fei has seen enough.

When his lungs finally still, he heaves himself up out of his chair, stalks to his office door, and throws it open.

“Zhao Li An!” he shouts.

All activity in the unit halts as everyone turns to stare at him, and then their gazes all wander in the direction of the culprit.

Zhao Zi swallows audibly, looking both innocent and terrified.

At least Zhao Zi was early this morning, Shao Fei admits grudgingly, probably in penance for his crimes the week earlier.

“Don’t ever be late for the morning briefing. Ever again.” Because Meng Shao Fei doesn’t think he’ll be able to survive another apology letter written by this idiot. Not after being pummeled by Zhao Zi's brutal honesty and borderline sexually harassed by his descriptions of his boyfriend.

Zhao Zi snaps him a quick salute. “No, sir,” he acknowledges.

“Zhao Zi!” The name echoes down the corridor, the long shadow against the side of the wall preceding the arrival of the boyfriend in question.

Zhao Zi’s attention is immediately drawn to Jack, who has just strolled into the station. Zhao Zi's salute to Shao Fei drops immediately as he whirls to meet his lover.

They need better security, Shao Fei thinks with annoyance. Somebody at reception just let Jack stride straight—

Then it’s Shao Fei’s turn to gulp. Jack is outfitted in a heather grey Under Armour shortsleeve. The man’s tight top leaves no contour up to the imagination. The shape of his pecs, the bulk of his biceps, the relief of his abs against the rest of his torso are on full, obscene display. Shao Fei resolutely refuses to stare at Jack's nipples protruding through the thin, moisture-wicking fabric. Jack's shorts are thankfully looser than his top, but end just above the knee. The shadow of his substantial quadriceps peek out from below the hem. And Jack’s calves. Shao Fei doesn’t know if Zhao Zi ever got to the calves in his essay, but he doesn’t think the Chinese language has words enough to do their chiseled form justice. Even the spattering of hair on Jack’s shins is pleasing to the eye.

It’s a good thing Tang Yi isn’t here, Shao Fei realizes, probably the first time he’s felt close to relieved that his lover is somewhere else, even if that somewhere happens to be behind bars. Tang Yi would smack him for sure for even skimming the surface of salacious thoughts about Jack.

Shao Fei isn’t listening to the conversation, as unconsciously he notes everything that Zhao Zi asked him to about Jack’s physique. A bento box exchanges hands, and Zhao Zi is even shameless enough to give Jack a kiss in front of all of his co-workers, swinging his arms around Jack’s back and standing on his tiptoes to bid him a less than chaste farewell for the day.

“Have fun at the gym!” Zhao Zi calls, waving as Jack turns and retreats.

Shao Fei inhales sharply as he gets an eyeful of Jack’s rounded, well-muscled ass before it disappears around the corner. Shao Fei rescinds his previous thanks to those shorts.

Zhao Zi turns and saunters back to the office, where everyone has suddenly discovered that their emails are very interesting.

“Was that it, boss?” he asks Shao Fei, who has frozen in his doorway.

Feeling that something is caught in his throat, Shao Fei clears it. “Carry on. Dismissed.”

He hurries back inside his office, slams his door, and sinks back down in his chair. Shao Fei leans his elbows on his desk, burying his face in his hands. He’s never going to be able to look at Jack the same way again.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the lovely duo of [Naye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naye) and [Xparrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xparrot) for the beta and endless encouragement!
> 
> Apologies to Meng Shao Fei, who has suffered much of Zhao Zi’s particularly clueless brand of No Tea No Shade in this fic.
> 
> This fic was inspired by Naye and [Yantantether](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yantantether) when they beta’d _[Every Spark a Conflagration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806334)_, and asked what story was behind the line, “...and [Zhao Zi] holds Jack’s sculpted pectorals entirely responsible for all the times he’s been late to the morning briefing at work.” 
> 
> Li'l Chubs is Jack and Zhao Zi's adopted stray cat, and makes her first appearance in _[Unplanned Parenthood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20474510)_, Part 3 of my series _[The Divine Art of the Househusband](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1444276)_.


End file.
